Page 47 of No Place for Single Cowboys

That did it. Cordy pulled his hand away. “Bullshit. You’ve done a hell of a lot more for me than just giving me a place to stay. And I have to confess something too—I was jealous.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Of what?”

“All those women who got one night with you. I was jealous of them.”

She’d suppressed it as best she could, never admitting it even to herself, but it was true. Cordy wanted to know what she was missing. She resented that she’d never get the chance.

“You deserve better than what I can give you,” he said. “Don’t wish for that.”

Anger flared within her lust. “Don’t patronize me. I know what I want. And I know how good you are. Word gets around in a town like this.”

Cordy stepped forward, her hand still locked around his wrist. She pulled his arm toward her until it curved around her back. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. Like I’m too fragile.”

“You’re not fragile,” he whispered, his mouth half an inch from hers. “You’re the strongest person I know.” He cupped her cheek with his free hand. “This is going to complicate things.”

Surrender softened his tone. He canted over her, a solid, dark weight in the gray light.

“If it’s too much,” she said, “tell me. I’ll go back to bed right now, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

He groaned. “Too much? You’ve been too much for me from day one.” His mouth brushed over hers. The contact was a sizzling shock and not nearly enough. “I’m trying to be noble here.”

Chance Kessal being noble? She finally got up the nerve to confess she wanted him andthatwas when he decided to grow a conscience?

“What do you think I’ve been doing for months?” she asked. “Watching what I say and do, taking all the classes, never putting a foot wrong, and still worrying it wasn’t enough?”

His thumb brushed over her jaw, slow, comforting. “Oh, darling, I know. I know. I’ve seen.”

That made her knees tremble. She thought she’d been so alone, struggling in the shadows, but it wasn’t true.

She tilted her face toward his, asking again for what she needed. What she knew he could give her, give her so good, better than anyone.

He kissed her, drugging, deep. She arched into him, begging for him to touch her where she ached. He’d helped her with so much, couldn’t he help with this?

“Cordy.” He pulled his arm free of her grip. “You’re killing me.” But he settled his hand at her hip instead, digging in deep.

“Good,” she said against his mouth. “Please. I need you.”

If it was a bad idea—and itwas—she didn’t care anymore. Now that she’d released her hold on her control, there was no pulling back. There was only him and her and the fire between them.

“You don’t. I’m no good for you,” he said even as his fingers tracked over the swell of her hip, traced the crease of her thigh, then slipped between her legs.

She jerked like a puppet when he stroked her folds through her underwear. Her flesh was already so sensitized, it was almost too much.

“You’re wet.” Chance sounded like that was the most amazing thing he’d ever felt. “So wet.”

His palm cupped her jaw, that tender touch a sizzling contrast to the wicked flex of his other hand on her pussy. The ache in her clit swelled with each pulse of sensation, rising and rising without end.

“Please, keep going. Don’t stop,” she muttered, flexing into his hand. Into the wicked stroke of his thick fingers. Just a bit more, and she would be there. It was close, heat and pressure building in her core and lower back, her thighs starting to tremble. “You’re so good at this.”

Chance stiffened. Then he pulled away and fisted his hands at his sides.

Cordy bit back her protest. She shivered, even though her skin still burned. She wanted him back, wanted him to push her over the edge like she knew he could. Like she needed. But she didn’t know how to get him back.

“I can’t do this.” He covered his eyes like the sight of her was too much. “Do you have a vibrator?”

“What? Yes, but?—”

“Then use it and not me.”

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